


Origins

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Dark Han Solo, Established Relationship, Fluff, General Han Solo, Imperial Han Solo, M/M, Marriage, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21994132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Han is a ruthless general who nabs wide-eyed farm boy Luke as his husband early on. Luke loves Han dearly, but finds himself uncertain of his position and future  aboard a warship and surrounded by Imperial Officers. If that wasn't enough, strange, unexplained events begin happening around him, and he starts to question everything, even his own, unremarkable past.(This is an continuation and expansion of a prompt I started filling years back.)
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Luke Skywalker/Han Solo
Comments: 36
Kudos: 354
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Leaving

**Author's Note:**

> Way back when I started filling a prompt for the kink meme and never managed to finish it, despite several ideas. I now hopefully have the time to do this properly, and so I have also done a George Lucas and edited what I already had since I have that option in this format.
> 
> Original kink meme prompt: there's this great AU fic where Han, Luke and Leia all went to the dark side and Han's this ruthless Imperial General (fic is here if you're interested: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6025270/chapters/13821271 ) SO...
> 
> I want Han as a ruthless general who nabs wide-eyed farm boy Luke as his husband early on. Han loves Luke and cares about him, would never hurt him, but is selfish and Luke doesn't have too much knowledge of the world beyond the various ships they inhabit and what he grew up with on Tatooine. Luke loves Han, but he is afraid of him and gently tries to keep him from killing various officers when he's in one of his moods, with varying success.
> 
> Han is proud of his pretty husband and loves spending time with him when he can.
> 
> Further plot if wanted:
> 
> When Luke's parentage comes into play, although there is the serious risk of Vader killing Han for essentially keeping Luke, Luke begs Vader not to hurt him, and Vader decides that the three of them might well be able to destroy the Emperor sooner rather than later.
> 
> Link to the meme and original fill attempt is here: https://starwarskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/586.html?thread=841290#cmt841290

The familiar roaring noise began to die down as Aunt Beru smoothed Luke’s tunic out over his shoulders gently, her lips pressed together.

The two shared a look, a small nod, and then together they walked outside, Beru in front, followed by Luke. A long ramp, attached to the Imperial Standard Vessel that had appeared just a few metres beyond their front door, lowered, and four Stormtroopers began their march down onto Tatooine’s dusty surface. Upon reaching proximity of the Lars residence, two broke away to stand guard on either side of the door, while the other two had remained back to guard either side of the transporter’s ramp. Then, a pair of shiny black boots descended upon the ramp, the man wearing them soon coming into clear view.

Luke’s breath hitched. Rumours surrounding the notorious General Solo had managed to cross time, space and deserts to reach even their little farm. None of the stories, as murky as they were, had mentioned Han’s handsome face, his charm and raw appeal. Then again, perhaps those things were obvious only to Luke, one of doubtless few people in the galaxy permitted to call him by his first name. And, as they were to be married, it only made sense.

“Hey, kid,” said Han, reaching out to cup Luke’s face; his thumb coming to rest so gently against his chin as his fingers stroked his lover’s jaw.

“Han,” said Luke, smiling. He felt relieved, although he wasn’t certain of what precisely he’d been afraid of.

“You ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

Han grinned, and Luke felt so pleased to see him smile, and to know that he was the cause of it.

“Owen,” said Han, tearing his gaze from Luke for the first time since he’d set foot on land and training them on the older man who had appeared in the doorway beyond. “Beru. I’ll take care of your nephew, you have my word.” And just like that, his voice was back to its formal, trained inflection.

“I don't doubt it, sir,” was Uncle Owen's only response, although he took care to make it sound genuine.

“We wish you both great happiness,” said Aunt Beru, perhaps more truly sincere, and reached out for Luke, who embraced her gladly.

Han nodded in acknowledgement. “We’ll have to get going; orders from above and beyond.”

Luke was eager to leave; in fact, he was almost desperate. But he would miss his Aunt and Uncle, however unexciting and isolating living on the farm had been. They’d still raised him, and loved him. He had no idea when he would next see them. People rarely came by Tatooine for fleeting visits, as Luke knew all too well. Han had given them a brand new communicator, vastly superior to the old one that had been affixed to the wall in the kitchen and barely reached further than Mos Eisley in its range. 

As Luke pulled away from Beru, he turned to his uncle. Owen made no declarations, and merely drew Luke into a one-armed, brief, but firm, hug. He had never been the most cheerful of men, and he’d been edgy ever since Han came into their lives. No doubt he would be as relieved to see the back of him, as he was reluctant to let Luke go. Luke couldn’t find it in himself to resent him for any of it. He knew his uncle had never wanted him to feel trapped there, he’d just hoped, as all farmers did, that the next generation would show the same dedication to maintaining their business. But he and Aunt Beru would be well cared for now. Luke was leaving them his speeder, Han was giving them some money, and he’d promised Luke he could do so himself when he found his own position aboard the _Defeater_.

“Goodbye,” said Luke, taking the small cloth-bag Beru held out to him. “If you need anything – ” He stopped. His aunt and uncle just nodded at him, and then Han put an arm around him, and he gave them one last smile and a wave before he was led away.

They boarded the ramp of the vessel waiting for them. It was cool, almost cold inside and Luke shivered as Han gestured for him to sit. The four Stormtroopers came marching up the ramp behind them, which then rose smoothly. All noise of Tatooine; the wind and sand blowing, the insects and the farm's turbines, ceased suddenly.

Han took the seat next to Luke and they both buckled up. His arm returned to its place around Luke’s shoulders, and he leaned in to kiss him softly. “All right?” he asked when he finally pulled away.

Luke nodded, blushing lightly. “You?” he said. When Han hummed in response, Luke pressed further. “You didn’t get any trouble, being away from work?”

The ship took off then, rumbling gently around them, and Luke’s heart skipped a beat.

“Nah, no trouble,” said Han. “But it’ll be a short ceremony for us.”

Luke smiled. “Aw, did you envision a parade?”

Han chuckled, giving him a little squeeze. “Brat. Wouldn’t have minded showing you off a bit, though.”

“Don’t suppose they do much partying on the _Defeater_?”

“Depends what you mean by 'party'.”

Luke smiled nervously. He was intrigued to see how balancing their love life with Han’s career was going to work. Not many Imperial Officers married; their workload didn’t always allow for such things, but Han, and a handful of other senior officers, seemed to be the exception. Luke was worried about fitting in aboard an Imperial ship. He didn’t have any formal training whatsoever; and barely any knowledge of rank. What if he embarrassed Han?

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart,” said Han, kissing him again. “Anything you need to know, just ask.”

“Can you read my mind?” asked Luke with a small laugh.

“I’m _trained_ to read people. But I know people who can. Read minds, I mean.”

Luke blinked. Then he shook his head. Han’s sense of humour could be... a little odd. And his mood was very changeable, he thought, as Han’s large hand rested upon his chest, forefinger toying with the neckline of his tunic. He’d never felt underdressed until he’d seen a pair of Officers (Han being one of them) for the first time. He supposed they were all dressed smartly for duty aboard cool, clean ships, but still it made him feel naked and somewhat vulnerable in his flimsy white tunic. 

Han was dressed in his own regimentals, filling them out nicely, and Luke turned further towards him to run his hands over the rigid fabric covering his chest. They kissed again, uncaring of the Stormtroopers seated close by.

They hadn’t had much time completely alone together. Han had always been constrained by the short visits permitted him, and wherever he went the Stormtroopers went. They seemed to be a standard form of personal guard, but Luke was willing to bet Han could probably have done just fine on his own. If his reputation wasn’t enough to ensure people steered clear of him, then the man's incredible instincts were.

During a rare visit to a (typically rough) bar, a massive fellow patron, whose species still eluded Luke, had grabbed his arm to howl whatever offence he’d done him. The individual probably hadn’t even heard the footsteps from behind him before Han had fire a blast neatly through his skull. Then, when they’d taken a trip to Tosche Station together (Luke didn’t think he’d ever seen a man look more out of place than the smart General among the handful of elderly villagers and youngsters hanging about), Han had at first been charming towards everyone, but was soon demanding with a frightening calm to know why Camie and Janek kept shooting Luke odd looks. By then, Luke had grown quite good at recognising the shifts in Han’s temper, and drew him away with soft words little tugs on his hand. He and the others, particularly Camie, had never seen eye-to-eye, and he knew most of his old group had long found him irritating for being just that little bit too young or small or whatever it was. The reason had seemed to change every month. Still, they didn’t deserve Han’s wrath, however subtly he chose to deliver it.

However, when they had successfully found privacy, the two of them had managed fairly well. A few snatched moments of pleasure had taught Luke that Han very much liked when he pressed kisses to his torso, and Luke enjoyed the feeling of Han’s chest hair against him, and he thought that Han had to be some kind of god by the way he used his hands.


	2. Arriving

The _Defeater_ was stationed not far from Tatooine, and soon Luke found himself craning his neck to get a look at the thing through the small windows of vessel. The colossal ship loomed out of the darkness of space, awaiting their arrival.

They landed in the ship’s vast docking bay, where they were met by two officers and yet more Stormtroopers. Han placed a hand on the small of Luke’s back, leading him down the ramp and across the shiny black floor towards the two men. Glancing up, Luke noticed that Han was now straight-backed and his expression solemn.

“Captain,” Han said to the officer on the right. “I trust we make good time?”

“Indeed, General Solo,” replied the Captain neatly.

Han gestured to Luke. “This is Luke Lars, my fiancé; Luke, this is Captain Ava.” 

Captain Ava gave Luke a sharp nod. Luke gave his own awkward one in response, and the Captain turned back to Han. “They are ready to process Lars’s information, sir,” he said.

“Good. Begin our return, I will accompany Luke.”

“Sir,” said Ava, bowing his head.

The other officer had gone unmentioned, but he didn’t seem to even notice, and had simply stood with his hands behind his back throughout their exchange, watching them carefully. He left with Ava, their steps quick and purposeful.

“Now we have to get you registered and the rest,” said Han, sliding his arm around Luke’s waist as they walked past the troops to a large set of open blast-doors. “Then we marry.”

Luke smiled.  
  


  
  
“Just a routine scan,” said Han to the two medical officers examining Luke’s teeth and nails, then after a pause, “ – if you please.” He smirked at Luke, who just grinned back. Han’s upbringing hadn’t reflected that of the Empire’s ideal of the well-bred officer. In fact, Han had smashed many of Luke’s preconceptions of an Imperial General from the moment they had met.

Han had been in uniform, of course, the Stormtroopers as tense as ever surrounding him, and Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru even tenser as they watched him. But Han had been sitting, almost _slouching_ in a way at their little dining table, looking calm and collected as he’d questioned the couple.

_“Ben Kenobi,” was the first thing he heard from his Uncle Owen. “He’s just a crazy old man – lives past the dune sea, that way.” He just caught the way he gestured over his shoulder, to the East._

_“Not anymore, he don’t,” said General Solo. “Looks to me as though the old man did a runner. I just wondered if there was anything useful you might be able to tell me – maybe you’ve seen him recently; or even spoke with him?”_

_Uncle Owen shook his head. “We never socialised. The last I saw of him was well over a year ago, just in passing.”_

_Luke shook his head. He’d never understood his uncle’s dislike of old Ben, and he couldn’t, for one second understand what would bring Imperial Forces to their little farm in order to look for him. He stepped fully into the doorway, hoping he wouldn’t be shooed off, and Solo’s gaze flicked immediately to him._

_“Who are you?” he asked, head tilting with interest. He didn’t seem startled to see Luke there, although the Stormtroopers all twitched in Luke’s direction, perhaps awaiting Han’s orders. Han merely shifted to get a better look at him._

_“My nephew, Luke,” said Owen quickly. He looked annoyed, as usual, although Luke was willing to bet this was the first time ever his uncle was annoyed that he’d come home early._

_“Best let the kid answer himself,” said Solo, coolly, and Owen went remarkably silent. “Come in, Luke, I expect you’ve heard enough to know why we’re here.”_

_Luke went slightly pink, but nodded as he stepped into the dining room, suppressing the urge to fidget. Everyone had heard rumours about General Solo. He never did things by halves, was what people said. If he’d ever made a mistake, the Empire had seemed to think him worth keeping, although the rumour was that he never showed such leniency to anyone else. Luke hadn’t once imagined that he might be good looking. Solo had a very pleasant, almost kind face, especially with the way he was smiling at Luke now._

_“Do you mind answering some questions about Obi-Wan Kenobi?”_

_Luke frowned. “ – Obi-Wan – sir?”_

_“You know him as Ben.”_

_“...Sure.”_

_“Good. Have you seen him recently?”_

_“No, sir.”_

_“When would you say was the last time?”_

_“ – Maybe six months ago? At Tosche Station.”_

_“Do you know him at all?”_

_“He was always kind to me when we met, but we never really had a conversation or anything.”_

_Luke felt strange. He knew he had virtually no information on Ben to give, condemning or not, but it still seemed plain wrong for the Empire to have any interest in the lonely old man. But that was just it. He’d never really known Ben. Maybe he wasn’t lonely; or if he was, maybe it was self-imposed. Maybe, in this case, the Empire could be in the right, and Ben could have been a dangerous criminal hiding out here. Tatooine was known to attract the wrong sort, after all._

_“So, you don’t think you could tell us where he might have gone?” continued Han. “Or what he might have planned?”_

_“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know,” said Luke, feeling his face heat up again._

_Solo waved a hand. “That’s all right.” He sat up and stretched, before relaxing again and looking back at Luke._

“Don’t touch his hair,” drawled Han, bringing Luke back to the present.

The medical officer didn’t even hesitate in placing the razor back on its silver tray. She straightened up. “That is everything then, sir. Unless there was anything else?”

“No, that’s everything, just the clothes now,” said Han, winking at Luke, who climbed down off the examining table. “I’ll let you change, sweetheart.” Han left the room with the other officer, the door hissing shut behind them.

Luke sighed and examined his new clothes, probably made to exactly his size. He was slightly worn out from his processing. He hadn’t even considered that he’d need to give so many personal details, or that they would want to cut his hair. A quick once over of all the officers had given him a hint when they’d landed. He now doubted that any member of the Imperial Forces kept their hair long, apart from a few of the women he’d seen, but each of them had worn theirs carefully scraped back and pinned up. He wanted to keep his hair as it was, especially as Han liked it, but he hoped doing so wouldn’t single him out too much now that he was living here.

Another minor embarrassment was that he’d been unable to answer many of the questions regarding his birth and circumstances. He didn’t know precisely why, or when his parents had chosen his aunt and uncle as his guardians. It had long been clear to Luke that none of it had really been planned. His mother had unexpectedly died in childbirth, but he only had Uncle Owen’s comments of how his father had been ‘a dreamer’ and a ‘crazy fool’ to go on as an explanation for his death. And then there was the issue of names. Aunt Beru had told him his parents’ first names when he’d asked her, many years before, but he couldn’t remember them. He’d never had to. He thought his mother’s name began with a P, but couldn’t, for the life of him, recall anything about his father’s. His uncle and aunt hadn’t seemed to think he’d need them in space, as they hadn’t included a birth certificate in his pack, if he had one. Still, it was frustrating, and he made a note to contact them as soon as possible and ask about it.

Han didn’t seemed concerned over his lack of information, commenting that documents didn’t always hold much use on such distant planets. Luke felt lucky, though. He supposed that maybe the Academy wouldn’t have accepted him for training after all, with so little information to give, and he wasn’t tall enough to even start out as a Stormtrooper. Han’s influence was preventing him from having to jump through hoops, there was no doubt about it. Still, for the meantime, this was marriage, and he was quite happy to focus on that part for the first few weeks.

When he was dressed, in smart pants, shirt, jacket and boots, he walked over to the door and opened it to find Han leaning against the wall opposite. Han grinned when he saw him.

“Oh, this looks good,” he said, pushing away from the wall to pull Luke into an embrace. He inhaled softly from Luke’s neck, Luke closing his eyes as he did so. “What did you do with your other stuff?”

“Hm?” mumbled Luke, shifting to press against Han further. “Oh, on the table. Shall I keep them; or – I suppose I don’t – ?”

“You _do_ look cute in the tunic.”

“I’ll _have_ to keep it then, I guess.”

Han chuckled. “Come on, let’s go pledge ourselves to one another.”


	3. Joining

  
The ceremony was to be conducted in a thankfully modest-sized, round room that was probably generally used for meetings. Luke doubted that the ship saw many weddings.

It was just them, the registrar, and the witness; a tall, handsome man in the most colourful clothes Luke thought he’d ever seen in his life, let alone on board the _Defeater_.

  
  
“Luke,” said Han, stopping in front of the man when they arrived, “this is Lando Calrissian; administrator of Cloud City on Bespin, and an old friend of mine.”

  
  
“Pleasure to meet you, Luke,” said Lando, flashing him a brilliant smile as he held out a hand. “And don’t believe anything he tells you about me.”

  
  
Luke blushed, shaking Lando’s hand. “You’re _not_ the administrator for Cloud City, then?” he said neatly.

  
  
Lando laughed. “Oh, you’re gonna be fine.”

  
  
“Are we ready?” Han asked the registrar loudly and Luke and Lando let go of each other.

  
  
“We are, sir,” she replied.

  
  
It was all very brief. Luke and Han made their vows, the registrar asked for any protests, and none came. Then, she officially united them, asked them, and Lando, to sign a rather fancy paper document, and then Luke and Han were told they could kiss.

_Luke was surprised to discover the General watching him. He’d been excused from any further questioning a while back, and all the sudden scraping of chairs and footsteps had signalled that their visitors were finally leaving. Solo was eyeing him from the top of the steps with an unreadable expression, and it struck Luke as though the man was simply taking him in. The Stormtroopers filed out behind their leader, already marching off in the direction of the village, but he made no move to follow them. Luke swallowed, wondering if the man wanted to quiz him about Ben some more; if perhaps his nervousness had made him appear guilty._

_“You have quite the view here,” said Solo, nodding up at the sky, where the twin suns were beginning to set. His gaze returned to Luke, penetrating in its intensity._

_Luke just nodded._

_“Must be lonely, though,” Solo continued. “For you.”_

_The word was strange to Luke’s ears, and yet it made his heart skip a beat, as though the man had said something more accusatory._

_Lonely._

_“I guess so,” said Luke dumbly, before quickly adding, “Sir.”_

_Solo chuckled._ _“You ever think about joining Imperial Forces?” he asked._

_  
  
Luke blinked. Solo kept throwing him off, and this question had no less effect. People who met Luke (or who already knew him, as was always the case) did not tend to think a career in anything other than farming a possibility for him at all. It did grate on him; those closest to his age cited his smallness and ‘softness’ as reasons he was unsuited to a military life. But Luke knew this was only their excuse for not wanting him around. He was just that little bit younger than all his contemporaries by two or three years, but it wasn’t so big an age gap anymore. And although he doubted he’d grow taller now, he had time to get stronger and train; not that being slightly smaller in physique had prevented the few young women who had joined up._

_“I was thinking about joining the Academy – I mean, I hoped,” said Luke nervously. “One day, maybe.”_

_  
  
“Why not now?”_

_  
  
“It wouldn’t be right to just leave them,” said Luke, lowering his voice. “My uncle needs more help these days.”_

_“Of course,” said Solo, nodding. “Seems a waste, though, a fine young man like you cooped up here.”_

_Luke’s heart lurched slightly again, although he tried to ignore his suspicion that it was for a reason other than trepidation. “Maybe, sir,” he replied uncertainly._

_“What do you want to do?”_

_  
  
“Piloting. I don’t think I’d be much good in hand to hand combat.”_

_  
  
“Oh, they’d train you for that soon enough, kid.” Solo grimaced at the horizon, the suns beginning to cast an orange glow across everything in their path. He exhaled loudly, and turned back to Luke. “You’re right, though, it'd be wasted on you.”_

_  
  
Luke felt himself flushing a deep red; the stab of embarrassment and anger familiar to him. Knowing that any form of retaliation would be unwise, however, he ducked his head as he felt the General move away from the stairs and closer to him, ignoring the prickling feeling behind his eyes. Ultimately, he knew that his perfectly good physical capabilities were neither here nor there. It was his ‘softness’; his awkwardness, his devotion to home and family, and his daydreaming over taking any action. He was trapped by it, and by his uncle’s struggling business. An individual like him was weak in the eyes of his peers, let alone the Empire._

_  
  
“Would be a crime to wreck that pretty face,” Solo said, and Luke looked over at him in surprise. _

_The General just winked at him before turning to follow the trail in the sand left by the Stormtroopers._

  


  
  
Lando laughed. “ _That’s_ what he said to you?” he said to Luke incredulously. He stared at Han. “ _That_ was your move?”

  
  
They were in the lounge area of Han’s private quarters, sitting on cool leather couches. Everything was incredibly sleek, with very little colour, as the rest of the ship (or, what Luke had seen of it) was. There was, of course, a bar, and the three of them were making use of it. Luke was still embarrassingly on his first drink, but neither Lando nor Han had commented on it.

  
  
Han rolled his eyes. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he drawled.

  
  
Luke smiled, hoping it concealed his unease. He was beginning to feel it more and more as they spoke with Lando. He hadn’t yet come across anyone else who dared to mock Han, and although he was perhaps feeling more jealous than anxious, another part of him wanted to warn Lando away; to tell him not to push Han. But maybe that was naïve of him. The two men had clearly known each other for years, and surely knew what boundaries were and were not to be crossed. And yet Luke wondered how often they were really in contact. Occasionally, he thought he’d caught a doubtful look flash across both men’s faces, but then supposed he could have imagined it. Han had mentioned his friend one or twice back on Tatooine, but Luke had been picturing another hardened officer-type, whereas Lando’s colourful personality and clothes brought forth all kinds of implications of a far more chaotic past he and Han might have shared. And Lando was very charming, nice, even. No doubt it all concealed something much deeper, as Luke knew Han’s charisma did.

  
  
Lando was shaking his head. “What are you doing with _him_ , Luke?” he asked jokily. “I can testify that this man has no class whatsoever.”

  
  
“’No class?’” repeated Han. “Says the man wearing a peach-lined cape.”

  
  
“Hey, man, capes are in fashion. Hell, _Vader_ wears capes.”

  
  
“Not peach-lined. And I stand by my comment.”

  
  
“You have a death wish?”

  
  
“Had no idea you were so dangerous, Lando.”

  
  
Lando shook his head. “Guess you’d know, since you’ve met the guy.”

“I’ve certainly had the honour.”

  
  
Luke couldn’t help but be interested. Darth Vader featured in quite a few of the stories he’d heard back home as well, although he’d never quite understood what, or who, the man was. “Who is he?” he asked, finally feeling able to do so.

  
  
“The Emperor’s protégé, I guess,” said Han, as though the subject were unpalatable to him. “Don’t have too many dealings with him – best kept that way. He’s tailing Kenobi as well, although he got the more action-packed side of things. Which turned out to be a very good thing for me.” He lifted a hand to stroke Luke’s cheek gently. “He’s pretty much a mystery – lots of creepy mumbo jumbo a lot of it, but – ” He paused to sip his drink. “I don’t expect you’d meet him soon, but I’d suggest you stay out of his way if he’s ever around. Even if I was, say, promoted above him – if that were possible – he’s got powers _I_ can’t compete with.”

  
  
“Powers?”

  
  
“Fighting kind of powers,” said Lando. “Not sure if I believe most of it, but of course Han here has witnessed things first hand.”

  
  
“Let’s not talk about work,” groaned Han, putting his drink down on the shallow glass table next to him. “I got married tonight, for crying out loud!” Moving across the couch, he wrapped his arms around Luke and heaved him into his lap. Luke laughed, clutching his drink as some of it splashed over the glass onto Han’s uniform. Han didn’t seem to care, however, and kissed Luke’s cheek as they settled together.

  
  
Lando shook his head. “Just like a schoolboy,” he sighed.


	4. Giving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years everyone!

_“Nice speeder.”_

_Luke whirled around, nearly dropping the goods he’d bought for Aunt Beru onto the sand._

_General Solo was sitting at a table outside the bar just opposite. He had a drink in one hand and was reclined in his seat with his long legs stretched out before him, the heels of his shiny boots resting on the ground. “Luke, right?” he asked._

_“I – Sir!” Luke stammered. “You’re... still here.”_

_Solo’s eyebrow twitched upwards. “So eager to see the back of me?” he asked._

_Luke’s eyes widened. “No! I-I just thought you left already, sir.” He cringed internally at the lameness of his response._

_Solo smirked, apparently just amused by his nervousness. “You busy?” he asked._

_“No, sir.”_

_Solo slid the chair opposite him out from under the table with his foot._ _“Take a seat, kid.”_

_Luke hesitated, and then obeyed, placing his rather heavy cloth bag down as he did so._

_“We’re still questioning people, and the big boss has decided I should stay here in case the old man comes back.”_

_“Why – ?” Luke began, but then stopped himself. He had at least dozen questions he wanted to ask the General, including just who exactly his ‘big boss’ was, but he wasn’t sure if it might be crossing the line._

_Solo eyed him knowingly. “Go on,” he said._

_“I just – if I’m allowed to ask – why are you looking for Ben Kenobi? My uncle didn’t say.” Or wouldn’t say, as was the case, thought Luke._

_Solo took a sip of his drink and inclined his head. “You can ask. He’s been a wanted man for years, but his location was only recently discovered. Now he’s under suspicion of conspiring against the Empire.”_

_Luke blinked, and then looked out across the crowded marketplace. He could imagine old Ben ambling in between the shops and stalls, minding his own business except to stop and nod at one or two people. Luke would have been one of them. He had always recognised Luke, and would nod or wave to him if they were not close enough to say hello._

_“You don’t believe me,” said Solo, and Luke looked back at him, remembering his present company._

_“It’s not that, sir,” he replied quickly. “It’s just... he always seemed so harmless.”_

_“Unremarkable, was how your aunt described him. But that’s the best way to appear when you don’t want to be noticed.”_

_Luke nodded, feeling conscious of the bar-woman’s eyes on the pair of them from inside. An Imperial presence was very unusual around these parts, and it was clearly making the other locals feel as uneasy as it did Luke and his family. He wanted to know more; to ask what Ben had done in the first place, but he also wasn’t entirely sure what he would do with the information if he was given it._

_“So I’m guessing the old man never mentioned anything about his past?” said Solo._

_“Well, no,” replied Luke. “I thought he was from round here but that he just... preferred to be alone. Everyone did.”_

_Solo put a hand up. “It’s okay, kid. Questioning’s over. I know you don’t really know anything about him.”_

_And although it was true that it didn’t feel like an interrogation, Luke still wondered if the man thought he’d really find anything else here. Surely he must have found out where Ben had been living, if the man left a trace of anything behind when he’d left? Luke didn’t want to ask about that, though. He’d always been curious about where and how the old man lived, but for some reason he didn’t like the thought of it being turned over by Stormtroopers. If Ben really was some criminal mastermind, he surely would have taken anything of importance with him, anyway._

_Suddenly the General stood, and for a split second Luke thought he was about to be dismissed, but then the man said, “What’s your drink, Luke?”_

_Luke opened his mouth, surprised, and it took a moment before he was able to express himself. “Oh, I – don’t know,” he rambled. “I don’t really drink.”_

_“Here, try some of this.” Solo held out his own glass, and Luke tentatively accepted it._

_“Thank you, sir,” he said, before taking a small sip._

_It was very strong; some kind of whiskey, if he remembered correctly from the handful of times he’d been permitted to taste some of Aunt Beru’s collection. He managed to avoid choking on it, but couldn’t stop himself from pulling a face._

_Solo chuckled. “Maybe I’ll start you on something a little softer,” he said, and turned to walk inside the little building. When he returned not long after and deposited a tall glass of something down on the table Luke was feeling incredibly anxious._

_  
“I – Thanks, but... Here, I can pay.” He fumbled for his bag, but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder._

_“It’s my pleasure, Luke. Keep your credits.” Solo winked at him and sat back down._

_Luke blushed as he hesitantly put the bag back down. “That’s... thank you. Thank you, sir.”_

_“It’s Han.”_

_Luke looked up at him, certain he must be scarlet by now._

Han and Luke kissed feverishly, tugging at each other’s clothes all the way through to the bedroom. By the time they got there, Luke had lost his jacket and shirt, while Han’s jacket was unfastened all the way down, and he had kicked off his own shoes.

From the moment Lando had left them (winking and making all sorts of innuendo-laced suggestions in his goodbyes), they had more or less pounced at each other and not let go.

“God, Luke,” moaned Han, as Luke successfully pushed the jacket off his shoulders. He surged forward into the kiss again, even as he assisted Luke by pulling his arms free of the sleeves.

The jacket slumped to the floor, and Han grabbed Luke’s ass, pulling him in and up slightly, before pressing him back against the wall. Luke gasped and tried to assist by raising his right knee, and Han shoved against him, grinding the hardness in his pants against Luke’s. It turned into a bit of a struggle; Luke was just a little too short for them to manage it entirely crotch to crotch, and he ended up laughing as the older man swore and broke the kiss to pick him up.

“Screw it,” growled Han, swinging them both around and carrying Luke over to the bed. “Against the wall another time.”

Now looking down at Han, Luke stifled any further laughter and simply beamed at him. He tightened his hold around his shoulders, arms crossing at the wrists behind Han’s head as he ran his fingers through his dark hair.

Han deposited him on the bed, wasting no time in crawling on top of him for another kiss. His large hands stroked over Luke’s torso; rubbing across his nipples before ducking his head down to give one a little suck.

“Han!” groaned Luke, sinking his fingers back into Han’s hair.

“Hm, so sensitive,” whispered Han, pressing kisses along Luke’s collarbone.

Biting at his lip with pleasure, but desperate for more, Luke reached for the collar of Han’s shirt, tugging at it insistently. With some visible reluctance, Han ceased his attentions to Luke’s chest and looked up at him. “Want me back up there?” he asked. “Or did you want the shirt off?”

“Either,” panted Luke. “Both.”

Han chuckled and then sat up, still straddling Luke, and began to unbutton his shirt.

Due, mostly, to Luke’s impatience, it wasn’t long they were both naked. It was different being able to take time with each other like this; to know that they had all night this time. There was time to explore and enjoy; time to have fun and laugh about things.

They ended up similarly to how they’d first attempted it, albeit now they were lying down; with Han’s hand around both their hard cocks as they rocked together. Luke came fisting one hand in the sheets as the other gripped Han’s ass, moaning and gasping. Han finished himself off, swearing as he spurted all over himself and the mess that Luke had already made.

The night did not end with either of them taking the other, but instead they teased out a few more orgasms between the two of them; rubbing, stroking, licking, sucking and thrusting together. When they were both satiated and tired out, they lay side by side in each other’s arms.

“I love you,” Luke whispered, looking at Han’s face; admiring his incredible eyes, and the light sheen on his skin, where it was somewhat dappled by the barest amount of stubble growing through.

“You’re beautiful,” said Han, stroking Luke’s cheek. “Mine now.”

Luke grinned. “You too.”


	5. Living

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the hiatus. I have struggled with writer's block but will attempt to get this finished. Many thanks to everyone who has read and commented and the rest, you are life savers <3

_Ever since Han had come into his life, Luke had been visiting Tosche Station less and less. Whenever he needed anything, Han would present it to him, sometimes barely minutes later, almost like he’d pulled it out of thin air. There was now no denying that Han liked him, and Luke found himself hoping desperately that it was something real and serious. However, he did not want to be seen asking for things when he was perfectly capable of sourcing and (sometimes) paying for them himself, although he had to admit the attention was... nice._

_Today, Han had taken his men off somewhere, perhaps to follow a lead on Ben, and Luke needed some parts for a planned upgrade on his speeder. He arrived at Anchorhead to find the place buzzing with excitement. He noticed that some people were pointing at him and whispering, but no one tried to stop him when he jumped out of his speeder and headed into the station._ _Inside, the atmosphere was the same, but more tense, and it seemed to increase when Luke walked in._

_“What’s going on?” he asked Camie, too baffled by everything to be nervous of her._

_“Oh, hello,” she said stiffly, and the little group of girls around her moved off. Luke did not miss the omission of his ‘Wormy’ nickname. “You mean you haven’t heard?”_

_“Heard what?”_

_“Jabba the Hutt and his men were slaughtered last night.”_

_Luke’s mouth fell open. “You... What?”_

_“I mean the place was raided top to bottom. Anyone who fought back was killed on the spot.”_

_Luke couldn’t believe it. While he had never seen him, Jabba the Hutt’s influence had loomed over all of their lives since long before he was even born. Much of the money that was intended for infrastructure and public use and been embezzled by the Hutt and his cronies, and while slavery was technically banned, there were still many reports of people being snatched and put to work in his name._

_“...But who would do that?” said Luke._

_“Who indeed,” said Camie, and although the sarcasm she always reserved for Luke was there, it still felt like she was attempting to watch her tone. “Who isn’t afraid of Jabba the Hutt? Who has an unlimited amount of men and firepower?” She glanced around the station. “Who isn’t around today?”_

_Luke felt very strange. He knew, of course, whom she was referring to, but it just couldn’t be. Could it? The Empire had never gotten involved with the Hutt before; they had never cared, so why would they do so now? And Han... Han had never mentioned any knowledge or awareness of him. Unless... was old Ben involved with those criminals? Had he been found in Jabba’s lair, and somehow resisted turning himself in? Questions flooded Luke’s brain as Camie slunk away from him, giving him an almost appraising look as she went._

_Luke returned to his speeder, and went home empty-handed that day._

Luke awoke shivering. When he opened his eyes to straight, unfamiliar shapes in the half-light, it took him a couple of moments to remember where he was. Coming from the other side of the bed, however, radiated a furnace-like heat that Luke couldn’t help but roll back towards. He cracked one eye open, and smiled.

Han looked so peaceful, and _young_ when he was asleep. Luke shuffled forwards and pressed a kiss to his brow, and the man let out a groan and pulled Luke closer, perhaps not so deeply unconscious as it had appeared.

It had been two weeks since Luke arrived on the _Defeater,_ and it still felt strange that there was no sunrise; no indication that the day had begun. It was even stranger knowing that he would not be called by his aunt or uncle to breakfast, or to start his chores. There was, however, the sudden beeping of the alarm clock that was becoming more and more familiar to him as each morning passed. He felt Han’s reluctance as he pulled away from him and got out of bed. The sound of the bathroom door sliding open sounded, followed by running water. When he returned, Han’s hair was neatly combed, and he was practically strapped into his uniform.

Luke, now sitting up in bed, smiled at him. He took in Han’s appearance; his perfectly centred cap, the smirk on his handsome face, the insignia on the left breast pocket of his jacket.

“Wish I could stay,” said Han.

“Me too,” said Luke. “But business first.”

Han knelt on the mattress and crawled towards him, kissing him soundly and then resting his head against Luke’s chest. “What are you gonna do today?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not gonna train?”

Luke hesitated. Han had ensured that he was inducted into the flying programme immediately, but so far he was only allowed to train on simulators. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful, and so he hadn’t yet told Han that he felt ready to start doing the real thing. He knew he would probably sound ridiculous; insisting that he could handle a Fighter when the most he’d flown was a speeder and on simulations at Tosche station. And yet, somehow he knew it to be true. But it _could_ wait.

“Maybe later. I think I’ll try contacting my aunt and uncle again.”

“Try to?”

“The transmitter’s still not working.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Han said, “You didn’t say anything before?”

“When I said I thought it was switched off... well, it might still be, but I don’t understand how I’d get my planet side timings wrong every time. It’s almost like they’ve forgotten to turn it on, but I guess there must be a fault somewhere.”

“Hm, I’ll have a look into that.”

“Thanks.”

Most of the day passed by fairly routinely. Luke attempted to contact Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, and was once again met with radio silence. He was growing rather annoyed. He was certain that they wouldn’t have deliberately shut their new transmitter off during the days, but wondered if perhaps his uncle hadn’t paid enough attention to how it worked. Luke had offered to go through it with him several times, but the man had waved him off, insisting that he knew how to work the ‘fancy Imperial kit’. A fault was possible, too, and it was frustrating. Luke had wanted to ask Owen and Beru for the names of his parents, as he was still concerned about the omissions on his paperwork. The previous week they’d had dinner with the rather grumpy General Marl and his wife, and they’d been visibly perplexed when Luke hadn’t been able to even name his mother and father. Han had stopped Marl’s questions dead with a single look, but still Luke had to admit it seemed rather odd that he didn’t _know_.

He remained in his and Han’s quarters for a while, brushing up on some mechanical theory for an exam he was considering taking. There weren’t many rooms, but each one was plenty spacious. Each of the visible appliances were state-of-the-art and in excellent working order, and the reason why Luke was more inclined to believe that the non-functioning transmitter was more likely to be from his uncle’s side of things.

It was as he was having lunch, that he was startled by the presence of Han. During the working week, Han usually selected to eat his lunch in the Officer’s Lounge as they were never really off duty for that break anyway.

Han stomped in, his face grave as he swooped down to peck Luke’s cheek as though it was something he’d needed all morning. “We have a surprise visitor,” he said.

Luke frowned and glanced towards the closed door behind Han, as if expecting the visitor to appear there.

“Darth Vader,” Han explained. “He hasn’t arrived yet.”

“Oh,” said Luke, unsure of what this meant. “Is this a formal visit?”

Han let out a snigger. “Every visit of his could be considered ‘formal’... but technically speaking, no.” He sighed. “Looks like the great weapon had a weakness after all.”

Luke watched him patiently, intrigued by Han’s behaviour. “Great weapon?”

Han looked at him, and winked fondly. “Between you and me – the Empire have been working on this thing for years. A weapon with devastating power. It was meant to be the best kept secret throughout the galaxy, and completely indestructible. Yesterday, it was destroyed by rebels.” And then he _laughed_.

Occasionally, Han spoke of things going on within Empire with an air of criticism and disdain, but what surprised Luke was that there was almost a hint of... revulsion in his tone. Luke edged forward on his chair, his meal forgotten. He couldn’t help but be fascinated by stories of the Rebel Alliance. It just always sounded so _unlikely_ that anyone could resist the Empire, and yet - these people were.

“Damn,” said Han distractedly, humour apparently forgotten. “This is not what I wanted.”

“Han?” said Luke, growing worried. “Is everything okay?”

Han nodded. “Course it is, baby. We just need to transport Vader to Mustafar, and then he’ll be gone.”


	6. Watching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my readers! Hope you enjoy this next slice <3

_“Luke.” He looked up to see Uncle Owen standing in the doorway. He seemed troubled. “General Solo is here to see you,” he said finally._

_Luke’s heart leapt. He hadn’t seen Han for three days. He’d stayed home and done chores and built models and done normal things for the first time in what felt like weeks._

_His uncle disappeared back outside, and as Luke stood up, he could hear footsteps out in the sandy courtyard._

_Han walked in, glancing around the workroom until he found Luke. “Hi,” he said, smiling and looking so happy to see him that Luke almost forgot everything about old Ben, and the Stormtroopers and the Hutts._

_“Hi,” Luke echoed shyly._

_Han strode over to him, taking him in his arms and kissing him soundly. Luke clung to him. He’d missed him so much._

_“I’ve got you something,” said Luke, when they finally broke apart. He reluctantly left Han’s embrace to go and fish the object out from one of the drawers behind him. He blushed when he found it and turned back around, concealing it in his hands. “It- it’s just a stupid thing, but... I – ”_

_“What is it?” asked Han softly._

_Luke hesitated again, before finally holding out the little model to him. “It’s the ship you were telling me about. I – I could only find one picture in my book for reference, so it’s probably all wrong, but –”_

_“The ‘Falcon.” Han took it from him, and began turning it over in his hands, mesmerised._

_Luke watched him nervously, still bright red. “...You like it?”_

_Han cradled the tiny ship in the palm of his hand. He studied it for a moment longer, before looking up at Luke, his gaze burning. “Marry me.”_

Even when he’d first heard about him, Luke could tell, quite plainly, that Han did not want him to meet Darth Vader. He wasn’t offended – he knew Han wasn’t ashamed of him or anything like that, and in fact his husband always rather proudly introduced him to his colleagues. Vader was not ‘a colleague’, however. He wasn’t even a superior officer; he was something else completely. He was second only to the Emperor himself, and therefore answerable only to the Emperor. And so, if Han felt it was a bad idea to introduce them, Luke would not fight it. He did not want to cause Han any embarrassment – or worse – and besides, from what little he’d heard about Vader, he didn’t think he would want to interact with the man at all.

That did not mean, however, that Luke wasn’t intrigued.

Han could tell, as he could nearly always tell from one look at Luke’s face, and he smiled knowingly and said, “You can watch him arrive if you like. Everyone’s always interested in seeing Lord Vader.”

And so, several hours later when Han radioed him, Luke took the long route to the viewing aisle, which right now was cast in a low enough light that he hoped he wouldn’t be too conspicuous from the docking ground. It was never forbidden to come up here, even with such an important arrival, but Luke noticed that he was the only person who had stopped completely to watch the proceedings. Anyone else coming this way took just a moment’s pause to see what was happening, before marching off again. Nobody commented on Luke’s being there, nor did they spare him a glance. Perhaps that was because they knew he was married to General Solo, however.

Far below, Luke could see a slightly battered TIE Fighter docking neatly. It appeared to be a more advanced model than the standard issue starfighters they hand on board, with its strange wings that curved inward, and a darker finish. It had scorch marks all over it, and some of the paintwork looked melted.

There were rows upon rows of Stormtroopers standing on either side of the centre walkway. It was a similar set up to when Han and Luke had arrived there together, but the sheer amount of Stormtroopers, and the rigid set of the ranking officers’ shoulders marked a clear difference in the atmosphere. Luke could make out Han and Captain Ava standing side by side ahead of the other officers. They had their backs to him, and Luke imagined the two of them speaking quietly to each other without daring to moving their heads. The TIE docked, and the ramp lowered.

There was very little of Darth Vader’s appearance that suggested a living, breathing man beneath his mask and clothes. He wore black, and stood out in stark contrast to the sea of Stormtroopers on either side of him. There was no flesh visible, not even at the collar or wrists, and his hands were gloved. What Luke could see of the helmet, which obscured Vader’s entire face, resembled the oxygen masks worn by the other TIE Fighter pilots. He recalled Han mentioning that Vader required some kind of breathing apparatus, and the description had conjured up an image of an individual as battered as the TIE behind him; impaired by past battles. But _this_ figure did not look as though he bore a scratch, nor as though he depended on anything. It was only his towering, impressive bulk and great, unwavering strides that gave away his human identity. A droid of his size would not have moved that way; swift, steady, and oddly elegant. The long, billowing cape fastened at the collar indicated his high status, mysterious as it was.

Although the glass window in front of him blocked off any noise from below, Luke could sense the tension in the air. Even the rigorously trained Imperial Officers seemed unable to completely prepare themselves for Vader’s presence, which right now was radiating anger; Luke could _feel_ it, he’d swear on his life that he could. He watched fearfully as Vader swept towards Han, who greeted him with a reverent bow of the head. Vader was even taller than Han; and his superior strength was obvious as the two began walking along together, followed closely by the captain and two other officers. Luke narrowed his eyes for a better glimpse, and thought that Han’s expression must be his usual, reserved, neutral one he wore for work.

Vader paused, and Luke’s heart thumped violently, afraid that Han had said something wrong and was about to be reprimanded. And so, it was with some alarm when he saw that shiny, black helmet tilt up, and Vader locked eyes directly with him.

It was like being under some kind of spell.

Luke couldn’t see Vader’s eyes, which were obscured by the mask, and yet somehow he _knew_ he was being watched. He was absolutely certain of it. Luke stood ramrod straight. He was much too far away for an introduction, or even to be acknowledged, but he wondered fretfully if he should bow, or make some signal of deference. But he couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to.

He could not be the only figure visible on the platform, but somehow Vader had... _sensed_ him.

Han was watching Vader stoically. Luke saw his lips moving; perhaps explaining Luke’s presence, or attempting to distract him from it.

Finally, Vader tore his gaze away from Luke, and strode forward, beneath the viewing aisle and out of his sight, closely followed by Han and the others.

Luke realised he was shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos, really appreciated! <3 <3


	7. Meeting

Han was quiet and solemn when he returned that night, but he was blessedly whole and unharmed.

“Are you all right?” Luke asked, rushing over to him from their sleeping quarters.

“I’m fine,” said Han, taking Luke in his arms and giving him a firm kiss.

When they separated, Luke looked up at him anxiously.

“How was... he?”

Han snorted. “He’s in a hell of a mood. Briefed us and terrorised some of the youngsters, but he’s shut himself away now.”

Luke let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

Han gave him a squeeze. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just – he looked at me. Was it okay that I was up there? I mean you said – you said it was okay.”

Han chuckled. “It _is_. He didn’t say anything about it. I wondered how long it would take him to notice you.”

Luke blinked. “And you still let me go up there?”

“I _told_ you I know people who can read minds. And I think it’s as good as any proof that he’s not a man to be crossed.”

“I didn’t have any plans to cross him!”

“It’s all right. Just keep out of his way and you shouldn’t have any reason to fear him.”

Luke gave him a gentle thump on the arm as he pulled away. “You might have told me, that’s all.” He paused, and Han walked over to the couch and sat down. “He can really... read minds?”

Han tilted his head. “What did you feel, when he looked at you?”

“...Like he could see me. _Really_ see me.”

“I can’t explain it to you, kid. I used to think it was fairytales; the rumours about him and the Emperor. Boy, did I learn my lesson.”

Luke felt a shiver go down his spine. “Did they hurt you?”

“The Emperor did when I was insubordinate, yes. But he let me live. He... educated me. Gave me my position and this ship... I was lucky.”

Luke didn’t know what to think. His heart ached for Han, imagining him being flogged or whatever forms of discipline the Emperor had carried out. He could sense the almost grateful tone in his lover’s voice when he spoke of it, and he found he could not share the sentiment. He hoped he never had to meet the Emperor, because evidently he would _never_ be able to conceal his true feelings in the man’s presence. But he’d found one small mercy from their conversation; he had not offended Lord Vader or caused Han any trouble. And Han, whatever he may have suffered in the past, was safe and secure here. That was the most important thing.

Yes, thought Luke. There was no reason for Vader to spare him any thought at all. He was unimportant; irrelevant in the grander scheme of things. And perhaps that wasn’t such a bad place to be after all.

The next morning dawned like any other. Luke hadn’t even registered the change of direction. Space looked much the same wherever you were. As usual, Han kissed him goodbye and went off to work, and Luke tried to contact home again. There was still no response, but it didn’t faze him as much today. Han had informed the engineers and one would be sent out to Tatooine when it was feasible. Luke could be patient, especially while they were ferrying such an important figure around.

After breakfast, Luke worked out in the gym for a while. He was still very boyish and slim, which Han certainly had no complaints about, but he knew that anyone of Imperial rank had to be fit and strong. He was the only person in there, as most of the officers were on duty right now. It was getting rather lonely. He valued his time with Han deeply, but it seemed that no one else wanted much to do with him. People would nod at him respectfully, and then tend to clear out of his way, or even the entire room he was occupying at the time. He’d attempted to tell people that they didn’t need to go anywhere; that he did not expect priority or space, but so far it hadn’t worked. He wondered if Han had instructed them to be mindful of him, but he didn’t want to ask him in case it got anyone into trouble. Of course, it could also have just been Han’s reputation that was causing the nervousness around him. Luke hoped desperately that it wasn’t so, and that eventually he could make some friends. Perhaps when he was older and had gained his own status things would be better? He could dream.

After an hour, he returned to his and Han’s quarters, showered, and headed off to the training deck. He spent some time on the simulator, letting the focus clear his mind of anything else as he practiced take off, manoeuvres, landing, and then combat.

He’d asked his moderator to keep upping the ante, but even as he took out target after target, each one began to feel less like an achievement. The problem was that he wasn’t really learning from any of this. Even when they were being manually controlled, the sims were just too predictable.

After a solid half an hour, Luke clicked off the screen with a sigh. He figured that _one_ benefit of having to start small was that at least he would be able to prove his own worth as an accomplished pilot. Everything else was basically being handed to him on a plate, but this way no one could claim that he’d got onto the squadron because Han put him there. He knew the moderators were impressed with his skills so far, but they didn’t dare recommend that he move on to practical training before the standard induction time. Luke removed the headset and gloves, and got up from the chair.

After placing the headset and gloves on their stand, he paused. He could feel a prickling on the back of his neck, as though there was someone standing just out of sight beyond the booth.

Frowning, he listened out for the sounds of a conversation; maybe some of the other trainees bantering amongst themselves, but that was not what he heard. Instead, over the humming of the machines there was a strange noise; something electronic or... no, _mechanical_. He moved out into the simulation suite, looking to the right first and discovering that the line of booths was oddly silent and still. Swallowing, he turned to look the other way, and discovered the tall, dark figure standing at the end of the suite, blocking the exit.

He might have fallen over if that gaze hadn’t pinned him to the spot for a second time.

Up close, Luke could see more detail in Vader’s mask. It was rather skull-like, and it glinted in the low light of the suite. The mechanical sound came in regular beats – _breaths_ – he realised.

For a few moments – Luke had no idea how long – they stood there looking at each other. Finally, when Luke regained his thought processes, it occurred to him that while Vader was definitely looking at him, Luke might not be the reason he was here. Should he clear out of the way, he wondered?

Finally, Vader spoke, his voice startlingly loud over the buzzing in the room, and it made Luke jump. “It seems that General Solo has deemed it unnecessary to introduce us,” he said. Filtered through the mask, the voice was of a depth that suited his powerful physique, and although Luke could not detect the fury that had been there when he’d arrived, it still seemed laced with anger somehow.

“L-Lord Vader,” he stammered, remembering himself as he bowed his head. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do; he’d never addressed anyone of such high rank.

Vader moved, approaching until he was right there, towering over him. “So, he has informed you of my name. And yet, he has not spoken of you.” There it was; another invitation for Luke to speak, and he was still clueless.

“I – I’m Luke, I’m... just his husband, sir.”

“I see. And you think _he_ would refer to you so carelessly?”

Luke didn’t know what to say to that, either. What he’d meant was that he was not of official rank, being only married to Han instead of a pilot or officer in his own right. Han might like to show him off a bit, but marriage and family was a very private affair within the Empire. This was a bad situation. He didn’t know how to address Vader properly. He was probably messing everything up horribly for both him and Han. He suddenly felt very young and very stupid.

“The word on board is that General Solo is immensely proud of you,” Vader continued. “You must have many accomplishments?”

Luke inwardly cringed. He had nothing to show in the way of skills or achievements that might impress someone like Vader. There was something about the way Vader spoke when he mentioned Han; the slight inflection in the way he said ‘general’ that was almost mocking. It was making Luke very, very nervous. “I – I wouldn’t say I’ve accomplished much yet, sir.”

“And yet your results hold great promise.” Vader indicated the screen by the booth Luke had vacated, where his results were displayed at ninety-nine percent. “Unless his pride is based solely on affection?”

Luke swallowed. “I have plenty of practice on simulators, sir... but I’ve never seen real combat.”

“No. I wouldn’t have thought military training was easy to come by on Tatooine.”

Luke’s heart fluttered at the mention of his home planet. He supposed one of the other officers must have told Vader where he’d come from, but that did not explain the utter _contempt_ with how he said the word. “No, sir,” he said softly. “It isn’t.”

“And you look very young.”

“I-I’ll be twenty in a couple of months.”

Something _shifted_ in the air. Vader’s breaths came and went. Luke felt the _thing_ swirling around the pair of them, and it disturbed him intensely. What _was_ this he could feel whenever Vader was around? He remembered Han saying that Vader could read minds, but the man’s very being there was somehow tangible to him.

Vader continued, seemingly unfazed after all. “And you have come all this way to find yourself limited to simulations. That must be frustrating.” And there was another prompt for Luke to answer.

“I – I am willing to be patient, sir.”

Vader’s head rose slightly. “Patient – or unwilling to speak up for fear of causing inconvenience?”

Luke’s eyes widened. Knowing that someone could read your thoughts in advance did not make them doing it any less unsettling. Would Vader count this as Luke lying to him? “I- ” he began, but Vader was speaking again, so he shut his mouth tight.

“Patience is a quality, as is compassion.” Vader pointed at him. “You should not allow yourself to be held back by either one.” And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed from the simulator suite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much again guys! thrilled people are still reading and really hope you liked this chappie :)


	8. Drinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, apologies for how slow these updates are again. Also, just a reminder that a lot of the timings... are totally screwed up. I am deliberately messing with canon and I'm not that well researched on the universe in general but there it is! Hope you enjoy. xx

Han was only momentarily stumped when Luke revealed that Darth Vader himself had sought him out for an introduction. Luke was almost in hysterics as he finished describing their conversation, fretting over whether he’d addressed Vader correctly or if he’d done anything that might get them into trouble.

“Yeah, you should have addressed him as ‘My Lord’”, said Han thoughtfully, as though it didn't matter.

Luke buried his face in his hands. “Oh, _no!”_

“Kid, if he didn’t bring it up, he probably wasn’t bothered.” Han patted him on the back. “But now you know for next time. And anyway, he must have known you were making an effort.”

Once again, Han seemed almost _stubbornly_ unconcerned about Vader and insisted that they had nothing to worry about. Luke was left perplexed by the whole ordeal, and he was further perplexed, when, accompanying Han for drinks with the higher-ranking officers the next night, he came face to face with Vader yet again. The man was looming over all the other officers in the room, a meeting having evidently adjourned only moments before. Glancing around, Luke found that many others looked rather confused by the fact that Vader had not left yet. He was clearly not about to remove his helmet and start chatting over drinks, and his presence meant that only a few men dared to start doing so themselves.

“Should I leave?” Luke asked Han quietly, just before they entered, but Han merely placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“No, you’re fine,” he said.

“General Solo,” rumbled Vader, a blatant command to approach. He was standing beside Admiral Farrow; a rather unpleasant man Luke had been relieved to meet only the one time before.

Han made a beeline for them. The situation with Farrow was yet another example of his strange and obscure position of power. It seemed that most officers, even Generals, aboard the ship would be required to always defer to the Admiral, but Han was not one of them. While his comparatively young age was the obvious reason for his not simply being an Admiral himself, Luke suspected that both Han, and the Emperor, had a different plan in mind for his future.

Luke followed Han, immediately becoming aware that they had the attention of almost everybody, not least Lord Vader’s. Although his mask was currently turned towards Han, he got the distinct impression that the man’s stare had flicked over to observe him.

Han stopped in front of Vader, and gave a neat bow of the head. “Lord Vader,” he acknowledged, and nodded around the room. “Good evening, everyone.”

“Ah, you brought him,” said Farrow, eyeing Luke as though he were a particularly exotic pet.

Han ignored him, but held an arm slightly aloft, cueing Luke to step forwards and give his own, anxious little bow. “I believe you’ve already met my husband, Luke.”

Vader gave a slight tilt of his helmet. “I have. I wonder that you did not introduce us yourself, General.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t realise you would wish to. Your Lordship does not usually meet with the spouses of officers.”

“An officer of your standing does not _usually_ take a spouse.”

Han gave an amused nod of acknowledgement. “Well, here he is.” He shot Luke a small smile.

“Indeed.” Vader’s helmet twisted just slightly to the left, facing Luke fully. “I hope you have remembered my advice to you, Luke.”

Luke nodded. “ – Yes, my Lord,” he said, his own voice sounding childlike amongst the tension. Amongst all the official titles being exchanged, it felt very intimate to be called by his first name, particularly by Vader. It was as though the man knew it, too; as though he were staking some sort claim by addressing him so.

“We were just saying, General Solo,” Farrow cut in smugly, “it is interesting to know that you found the time for marriage while your search for Obi-Wan Kenobi remains fruitless.”

“Ah, Admiral,” Han replied good-naturedly, although Luke knew there was hate simmering beneath it. “As I thought we both understood, Kenobi’s movements indicated that he left Tatooine some time _before_ our sources were tipped off. Our instructions were simply to trace what we could of him. If we had caught him, it would have been a _very_ lucky bonus.”

“But you didn’t come up with _any_ leads. I wouldn’t have thought it that difficult; to track one old man through a sandpit?”

Luke felt a spike of contempt towards Farrow at that. The man _knew_ how things had played out on Tatooine and why; he was simply trying to drag Han in front of Vader.

Before Han could reply, Vader rumbled, “Do not underestimate Kenobi, Admiral.”

Farrow did have the good grace to look somewhat chastened, but he still continued with the same rather patronising air. “I did not mean to undermine the importance of capturing him, Lord Vader, only, I _know_ that you do not hold the Jedi in high regard.”

“The path is _never_ straight forward where the Force is involved.” Vader spoke with such intensity that Luke shivered. “Even when it is wielded by a Jedi.”

“Jedi?” Luke asked Han quietly. “Old Ben was a _Jedi?”_

His whisper must have carried, because Farrow crowed at Han, “Your little husband _knows_ the criminal? It just gets better and better!”

Luke blushed violently, unsure of whether he’d put his foot in it. When Han still did not appear worried, he replied, “Not really, sir. Everyone in the area knew _of_ him.”

“So, what do _you_ reckon? Hardened criminal type, was he?”

“...Not that I saw. He was kind of a... hermit.” Luke pictured Ben ambling through the market, and thought again that the entire thing seemed absurd.

Farrow smirked. “Too lowly for the society of the – what did you say your family name was, boy?”

“Lars, sir.”

“And what was it they do again?”

“Moisture farming, sir.” Luke took the care to keep his voice casual, as if he didn’t recognise the digs Farrow was levelling at him.

The Admiral gave a look of mock-interest, as though he thought Luke would be fooled by it. “Fascinating,” he said with a small chuckle.

Han subtly placed a hand on Luke’s lower back, and Luke felt a wave of affection towards him. He didn’t care what anyone else thought of him. Han loved him for himself and that was all that mattered.

“You were surprised to discover Kenobi was a wanted man, then?” Captain Ava asked Luke, stoic as ever and seeming completely unaware of any tension in the room.

“ – Yes, I was, sir,” replied Luke. “Very surprised.”

“Come on, lad,” laughed another officer he didn’t know. “You must have suspected something was off with him?”

Luke blinked at the little group that had formed around them. “ – No, sir. I – I didn’t really think anything of it.”

“He hasn’t seen enough of the real galaxy yet!” barked General Marl, and pointed at Luke. “With the line of work your husband’s in you’ll soon learn who can and can’t be trusted. You get a _feel_ for it. You’ll see.”

Luke hesitated, feeling more and more uncomfortable, and then nodded.

“Doubting the word of the Empire, eh, boy?” laughed Farrow eyeing him.

Luke felt his face heat again, knowing that he was being teased but also sensing the urgency that he explain himself. “Of course not, sir,” he said carefully. “It’s just that... some people are just a bit eccentric, aren’t they? Well – I guess I thought he was like that.”

“He never struck you as at all suspicious?” said the officer Luke didn’t know.

“Did he never show any violent tendencies?” asked Sera, General Marl's wife.

“No,” said Luke with a little shake of his head, the very thought of it still seeming wrong, and increasingly frightening.

“You know, usually the point of laying low is that you _don’t_ draw attention to yourself,” Han remarked to the group smoothly, and everyone except Vader and Farrow drew back, getting the hint. Farrow shot Han a loaded glance, and took a sip of his drink.

Luke shifted awkwardly on the spot. Despite Han stopping all the questions, there was still the matter of there being a great deal of anger present in the room, and Luke knew exactly where most of it was coming from. He wanted to leave.

“Well,” said Farrow smugly, raising his glass to Han. “I suppose one _could_ argue you didn’t return empty-handed, after all, General.” It was exactly the same thing he’d said when he’d first been introduced to Luke. Clearly he thought it was one of his more hilarious jokes, and either the few officers who tittered along with him agreed, or they just wanted to appease their Admiral. 

Vader did not join in the laughter – and whether he was capable of such a thing Luke did not know – nor did he seem to have heard the Admiral. He said nothing, merely staring straight ahead, apparently deep in thought.

“I was extremely fortunate enough to meet Luke during our stationing,” said Han, putting an arm around Luke.

Luke knew Han was used to jibes about his background too, or rather, the fact that no one really knew much about it. Still, he was impressed by how unaffected his husband could be under such scrutiny, and he tried hard to base his own attitude on Han’s example.

After that, everyone, Vader excluded, began drinking. Even Luke accepted a sweet-tasting cocktail Han recommended, although he took it slowly. Whenever another officer entered, they would do a double take upon seeing Vader there, and Luke was quite certain many of them were now regretting doing so.

Luke tried hard to focus solely on his own exchanges with Han and the other officers. He did not want to be caught eavesdropping, but Vader’s powerful aura, his laboured breaths, and his deep voice resonated so much that it kept diverting his attention. He was constantly aware of the way Farrow attempted to engage Vader in conversation, and how it seemed to be only half successful. Vader did not appear willing to engage in anything resembling small talk, and Farrow was left awkwardly chuckling to himself a couple of times. However, the general subject of their discussion must have been of some importance, because he did occasionally respond in only the negative or affirmative. In spite of his clipped dialogue, Luke noted that Vader’s voice was anything but emotionless. It was commanding, certainly. Aggressive, of course, but there was also a hint of clear derision, and even more disturbingly, _humour_.

Luke shook his head slightly and tried to look invested in Commander Kay’s description of the new fittings for the TIE Fighters; something that would usually have interested him. He reminded himself that Vader was here because of a rebel attack on the ‘great weapon’ Han described, and _not_ anything to do with him. Worrying about Vader’s supposed interest in him was stupid.

But then... he _did_ begin to worry when he suddenly remembered that he was not supposed to know about the great weapon, nor of its destruction, and a very dangerous mind-reader was standing mere feet away.

Almost as if to confirm his fears, Han and Kay both turned, and Luke looked up to find Vader had just abruptly left Farrow’s side to approach them.

“General Solo,” said Vader, and Luke’s heart fluttered in terror. “The Emperor wishes to speak with us.”

Han’s reaction was immediate. His casual demeanour lifted, and his expression settled into a serious one. “Now?”

“Now.”

Han placed his glass down on a side table and looked at Luke. “I think you’d better come, too,” he said softly.

Vader turned to him. “The summon was for you and I alone, General.”

Han nodded. “I know, my Lord. Luke, you can stay outside unless you’re needed. He may ask to see you.”

Luke swallowed and placed his own glass down. “He will?” he asked fearfully.

Han rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s possible, not very likely, but it might be on the safer side if you’re there.”

Vader’s gaze lingered on the pair of them for a moment, before he turned on his heel and swept out of the room, cape billowing behind him.

Han took Luke by the hand, apparently not wanting to keep Vader or the Emperor waiting as he led them both out. “It’s okay,” he said under his breath to Luke.

Luke bit his lip, unsure of whether Han really knew that.


	9. Concealing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shaking things up a bit with some Han POV in this chapter.

General Han Solo did not have the capacity to wield the Force, but he respected its power; and had witnessed first hand some of its very worst potential. Who would have guessed, then, that a simple card game might have instilled in him some protection against it? Through pain and torment he had learned to draw like a cloak across his mind the same deception he wore upon his face in a round of sabacc. It was a slippery kind of armour; one that he had to shift with constantly in order to allow his full motives to go undetected. He could not shield his feelings, he never would be able to, but he could utilise each emotion he felt like he was pulling on a new mask each time.

It was how he had survived for so long.

And it was how he had prepared for this meeting.

The Emperor thought he was simple-minded, driven by greed and lust and hate, and that was just fine with Han. It wasn’t _entirely_ untrue.

He couldn’t predict whether the man would wish to meet Luke, nor for what purpose if he did, but either way Han would never have left his husband with the likes of Farrow and Marl. Luke was nervous enough as it was, but if he _had_ to meet their leader Han would rather it was sooner than later.

Han and Luke made their way towards the elevator at the end of the corridor, and found Vader already waiting for them inside like a dark shadow. While Han knew Vader recognised many of his talents, he had always been aware that the Sith Lord only really tolerated him, or rather, the relative freedom the Emperor allowed him. Perhaps he saw it as a waste of attention and resources on one who was not Force-sensitive, or perhaps it was Han’s carefree attitude and foolhardiness, which vexed so many others in the Imperial Army, too. However, Vader had rarely expressed such outward disdain towards Han, or such interest in his dealings as he was doing now. Not that he’d actually _said_ much; he didn’t have to. But even poor Luke was obviously feeling the tension as they joined Vader in the elevator, looking like a mere child beside the man’s bulk.

Save for Vader’s constant breaths, the ride up was awkwardly quiet. Han wasn’t bothered; he had dealt with Vader before and knew that filling the silence was pointless on a good day, and extremely dangerous on a bad one. Instead, Han lifted a hand and fondly brushed a strand of hair where it flicked out at the nape of Luke’s neck. Luke looked up at him, his big blue eyes all wide and questioning, clearly startled he would do such a thing in front of Vader. Han just smiled and winked at him.

When they arrived at the level Vader deemed suitable, the three of them left the elevator and approached the first of the holoprojector suites. As they entered the antechamber, Han turned to Luke and pressed a kiss to his cheek, ignoring the way Vader’s mask twisted to watch the motion as he passed them and went straight on through the soundproof doors.

  
“Wait here, okay?” Han said softly, and Luke nodded before taking a seat on one of the chairs.

Although their superior was not physically present, stepping into the room, Han immediately felt the influence of the man who had shaped his life the most.

“Lord Vader,” drawled the Emperor, his yellow eyes seeming to glare out of the void beneath the dark hood even more intensely in the hologram. “General Solo.”

“Master,” Vader replied, taking a knee before him.

“Your Majesty,” said Han, doing the same.

“Rise,” said the Emperor. His countenance was tight and sharp with displeasure, and Han knew at least one of them was in for it over something or other.

They spoke a little of the unprecedented attack on the Death Star; of the fallout, financial and artillery loss. Next, they discussed in part the Empire’s retaliation plan, which relied heavily on when and where they would discover the main Rebel base. That, inevitably, led them to the subject of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Han’s time on Tatooine.

“I received your report,” said the Emperor irritably. “I have no doubt that Obi-Wan was involved. Farrow has bored me to death with his idiotic theories on how he must have been plotting this for years, and yet he offers up nothing on just _how_ Kenobi was communicating with the Rebels.”

Yes, thought Han. Had there been frequent communications between Tatooine and the Rebels _something_ would have been intercepted by Jabba, and yet there had also been no evidence found of a single message delivered to Kenobi at all. His remote home on Tatooine had revealed no signs of a receiver for broadcasts off-planet, nor had any strange vessels been reported in the area. He’d been glimpsed in Mos Eisley shortly before his disappearance, which heavily implied that he’d upped and left of his own accord since if the Resistance wanted him and knew his location, they’d have surely attempted to collect him themselves from nearer his home. If he was _really_ important to them, they would surely have been willing to pay off Jabba the Hutt to enable safe passage, and yet they hadn’t. Something was off here; strange.

“Ah, that it _is_ strange, Solo,” said the Emperor knowingly.

Han looked between him and Vader. “Another Jedi?” he asked cautiously.

“That is unconfirmed,” growled Vader, the first he’d spoken in a few minutes.

The Emperor sighed, his face sagging further into a look of sorrow that he likely did not actually feel. “It was unfortunate that the Hutt could tell us nothing... but then again, at least we continue to gain traction in his absence.” He looked at Han. “I knew I could rely on you to be thorough, Solo, but you certainly outdid yourself this time.”

Han bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Jabba and I shared some history.”

“Yes, you do seem to be allowing your _personal affairs_ to influence your actions lately.”

Now they came to it, thought Han.

“Your new spouse has found himself in a most fortuitous position,” the Emperor continued, “having come from _nothing_.”

Han glanced towards the door. “I’ve asked him to wait outside, if Your Majesty would like to – ”

“This is not a social gathering, boy!” the Emperor hissed. “Incidentally, I had thought a man like you had no time for _love_.” He practically spat the last word.

Han recalled a memory of Luke, his hair and skin practically glowing in the setting suns of Tatooine, unaware he was being watched, and focused on it for a moment.

“Of course... I know your weakness for beauty.” The Emperor’s features relaxed slightly. “It was most unfortunate for the Hutt that he also took notice.” He smiled nastily, displaying browning teeth. “Such a pity you do not have the Force, my boy. But still... anger is anger. Potential is potential.”

Han allowed himself to feel a small swell of pride. He supposed he might have carried out a fairly routine execution, if a snapshot of Luke hadn’t appeared on Jabba’s personal imager as they’d been negotiating a completely fabricated deal, while his own men used the time to surround the palace.

_“Who’s that?” Han had asked the Hutt, casual as ever as he nodded to the imager. The picture had been taken from far away, as an unsuspecting Luke carried what looked like some spare parts from his speeder into his home, his fair hair blowing in the wind._

_“My next pet,” replied Jabba in Huttese, a dribble of saliva snaking its way from the corner of his vast mouth._

_“He’s cute. Looks like he has a busy schedule, though. Farm boy, is he?”_

_“He will be collected, and then his schedule will be to my needs.”_

_“What’s his name?”_

_“It does not matter. I will give him a new one, if he lasts the first week.”_

Jabba had learned Luke’s name, in the end. Han had shouted it down to him through the grating after having him tipped into the pit with his own rancor.

“Such anger,” said the Emperor appreciatively. His piercing eyes widened slightly, and he looked over at Vader. “Ah, you disapprove of Solo’s marriage, my Apprentice?”

Vader’s mask raised just a fraction at that. “I am not the only one, Master,” he said. “General Solo’s affairs are his own, but he has chosen a most unexpected moment for nuptials.”

Han could hear the anger held tightly back in the statement. “I did not intend any disrespect, Lord Vader,” he said, and then turned back to the Emperor who was visibly enjoying himself. “When I met Luke I recalled the encouragement Your Majesty gave me regarding marriage.” At this, Vader’s helmet twitched almost imperceptibly towards the Emperor, but Han continued. “The wedding is over and done with. While the timing may appear unfortunate in one sense, in another... there was never a better opportunity.”

That seemed to amuse the Emperor even more. “Quite,” he said silkily. “As the Empire gains power and corrects those who stray, we must also take care to show we are... _relatable_.” He looked over at Vader on the last word, seeming to consider something for a moment before continuing. “I sense even more division between the two of you than before. We cannot have this. I think I would like my strongest and best to work _together_ from now on.”

Han felt a chill travel down his spine. “Your Majesty?” he asked, dreading whatever was coming next.

The Emperor sneered at him. “You will disembark at Mustafar with Vader. When the fleet is ready, you will join him aboard the _Executor_.”

“Master – ” Vader began, only to be cut across.

“Do not be so quick to protest, my Apprentice.” The cruel smirk dropped for a moment as the Emperor’s gaze flashed with anger. “We must strengthen our army and prepare to face the Rebels. Together, you will show them that their efforts to resist are hopeless.”

Uncertainty clouded Han’s mind as he listened. “Your Majesty,” he said with an obedient nod, before asking carefully, “Will I be able to bring my husband?”

The Emperor’s eyes positively gleamed at that. “By all _means_ , of course, your boy _must_ accompany you. I have heard he shows promising navigational skills. Educate him, Solo. Make him proud to be one of us. And who knows? Perhaps one day he will prove himself valuable outside of your bedchamber.”

-

Luke stood hastily when Han finally exited. “Does he want to see me?” he asked softly.

“No, baby.” Han held out a hand, which Luke took, visibly relieved. “Come on, I’ll explain what's going on back at ours.”

They walked together, away from Vader, who had remained to speak with the Emperor privately, about what, Han could only guess. There was nothing he could do about the orders he’d been given. Even if Han had thought Luke would be happier in the long run, he wouldn’t have sent him away. Luke’s association with Han kept him safe here, but it would make him vulnerable in many other parts of the galaxy. He felt a momentary twinge of guilt, and then quickly banished it.

He snorted quietly in grim amusement. While conversing with the Emperor was never exactly _pleasant_ for anyone, it seemed that today _Vader_ was the primary victim of choice for his twisted mind games. Everyone knew of Vader’s legendary anger, but as a Sith he wasn’t really meant to have any weak spots. And yet he clearly had a _thing_ about the subject of marriage, and the Emperor had been deliberately goading him with it.

“...Is everything all right?” Luke asked as they returned to the elevator.

Han squeezed his hand. Vader’s apparent interest in Luke was troubling, but Han was certain he’d just been trying to intimidate them. If he suspected something... No. Han resolutely cleared his mind of that trail of thought. There was nothing for Vader to suspect.

“It will be,” he replied firmly, as they began their descent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! x


End file.
